


Growing Into Family

by misscam



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 04:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1730594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misscam/pseuds/misscam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baby Neal meets his family. It's quite a complicated one. [Extended Charming family with some Snow/Charming, Emma, Henry, Regina, Rumple, Hook, Belle]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growing Into Family

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the S3 finale, but not really dealing with the cliffhangers of that. Hook’s feelings for Emma are also acknowledged, as is Belle and Rumeple’s new relationship status. Thanks to Angie for beta.

Growing Into Family  
by misscam

Disclaimer: Not my characters, just my words.

II

_Mommy and daddy_

II

They don't let him out of their arms the first few days. Snow cradles him, Charming cradles him, and they curl up in bed and hold each other why while they watch him sleep.

This is their baby. Their second child, and their baby, their baby to raise. They came so close to losing this one too, so close the thought of it makes Snow close her eyes in agony and Charming gently kiss her temple. 

“Don't think about it, Snow,” he murmurs lovingly. “He's here, in your arms.”

She nods slightly, gazing down at the sleeping baby in her arms, one of Charming's hands resting on her arms while the other is caressing her back leisurely. It does help her relax, even if the fear and pain of those hours she had lost another baby is still slightly haunting her. 

As if aware he's the topic of discussion, Neal blinks sleepily up at them. After a moment he makes a soft noise, a noise Snow hasn’t yet learned the meaning of. It makes her nestle the baby even closer, anxious to tell if he's trying to tell her he needs something. 

But Neal just blinks up at her again, and after a moment she relaxes slightly. He doesn't seem fussy, or hungry, or in need of anything.

“Maybe he's just saying hello,” Charming suggests, as if he knows what she's thinking. 

“Maybe,” she agrees, trying to keep her voice light. 

“Hi,” Charming says to the baby, a tone of voice that she already thinks of as Charming's daddy voice. She's heard the echoes of it when he talks to Emma sometimes, and would try very hard not to think of what might have been. 

(Charming cradling Emma's head. Charming singing lullabies to his baby girl. Charming cooing at her as she took her first step, going from mommy's arms to daddy's.)

“Hi,” Snow echoes, testing her mommy voice. She tries to fill it with all the love she can, all the care she can, all the parental reassurances. If she succeeds, she isn't sure, but she has time to practice it now. 

“That's your mommy,” Charming says. “Say hi to mommy.”

Neal makes a noise in return, and Snow can feel her heart swell. 

“Hi,” she whispers. “I'm mommy. That was daddy. And you're our baby boy.”

Neal makes that noise again, a noise Snow suddenly realizes he makes when he's mostly content. It's different to the noise he makes when he's hungry, or when he's tired, and he only makes it when there is nothing she can do for him. 

He has a language, and she's leaning it, she realizes, and the thought thrills her. 

He blinks sleepily at them again, then his eyes slide shut and he's asleep again, asleep in her arms. 

“That's right,” Charming coos gently at the baby. “Mommy's arms are the best place to rest. Daddy knows.”

“Charming,” she says sternly, and he simply tilts his head and kisses her cheekily in response. She can feel his lips curve into a smile against hers, and it is impossible to keep a smile from her own lips.

“You're incorrigible,” she murmurs against his lips, and he steals another kiss. 

“Just how you love me,” he says, and she would smack him for the arrogance if he wasn't so very right. So she kisses him instead, feeling him chuckle into the kiss before pulling away. 

“I love you,” he says, cupping her cheek and letting his thumb caress her lower lip. Then he tilts his head down to look at their sleeping son. “Love you too.” 

“Mommy and daddy love you,” Snow echoes, and Neal makes that noise again, even in his sleep, and she knows he is happy. 

She's learning to know her son, and she rests her forehead against Charming's and doesn't try to fight the tears that escape her. They're happy tears, relieved tears, mommy tears.

Mommy, and daddy, and their baby, getting to know each other. As it should be (as it wasn't with Emma), as it will be this time, as it has to be because their (joint) heart couldn't bear it otherwise.

II 

_Big sister Emma_

II

She has a baby brother, Emma reflects. Of course she knew the baby would come, knew from the moment Mary Margaret waddled down those stairs so very, very pregnant. And she's been determined to protect the baby since she learned of Zelena's plans for it so in a sense she might even have been acting like a big sister to him before he was even born.

But to see him, to hear him, to have him in her life, that's another matter. He's gone from being an abstract concept to something very concrete, a weight in her parents' arms.

It's Mary Margaret holding him now, rocking him to keep him sleeping. David is asleep on the couch, looking ragged and tired, but still strangely happy. Neal has been fussy several nights in a row, not letting David and Mary Margaret get enough sleep, and they've still insisted on helping her take care of Storybrooke's various issues during the day. 

(She has to admit that the sight of her father with a baby bjorn strapped to his chest and a sword strapped to his hip, or her mother holding a bow with a baby bjorn strapped on her back right next to her quiver, is the weirdest most endearing sight she knows.)

They're both exhausted, as parents of newborns often are. Emma knows. She has the false memories of baby Henry to prove it; she sometimes wonders if those memories might really be Regina’s. 

Her parents need some sleep, and this is the first day that has been relatively quiet and thus offering the perfect opportunity. Her father is getting some, but her mother doesn't seem willing to trust the crib to keep Neal asleep. 

“Let me hold him,” she tells Mary Margaret, who looks relieved, then guilty at the suggestion. It makes Emma decide to go for the trump card with an exaggerated puppy look for maximum effect. “Please, mom?”

As always, the use of 'mom' makes Mary Margaret's face soften and her eyes light up, even in her exhaustion. Gently, she eases the weight of baby Neal into Emma's arms. 

“Hi,” Emma says, pitching her voice just the way she (falsely) remembers talking to baby Henry. It seems to work, because Neal simply makes a soft noise, then sleeps on in her arms as she rocks him. 

“He likes you,” Mary Margaret observes, and Emma has to smile at that. Mary Margaret touches his head gently for another moment, then sighs and sinks down on the couch next to David. It makes him groggily open his eyes, and glance up at Emma. 

“Big sister to the rescue,” he says affectionately. Then his eyes slide shut, and he lowers his head into Mary Margaret's lap and is promptly asleep again. 

Mary Margaret smiles affectionately at him, lowering her hand to his head and drawing her fingers through his hair slowly. 

“Your father is right, you know,” she says, glancing up at Emma with pride. “You helped save him.”

“I didn't...” Emma starts awkwardly, feeling like she failed them all badly when it came down to it, but her mother just shakes her head at the protest, then closes her eyes and is fast asleep. 

Emma has to smile at that, the sight of her parents more or less passed out on the couch, every inch of them showing the exhaustion of parents of a newborn. As she glances down at the baby again, she can see he's opened his eyes, looking at her almost challengingly. 

“I couldn't sleep at night either,” she tells Neal softly. “Not until I got a lot older. But you don't have to worry. You won't lose them. They'll always find you.”

She makes an exaggerated face at that. “I know. Sounds corny and fairytale, but that's your family, kiddo.”

She pauses, glancing down at her parents again.

“Our family,” she amends. “Mom and dad. Your mommy and daddy. I'm the big sister. The big, big sister. Emma.”

Neal keeps looking at her, as if he's listening. 

“I mess up sometimes,” she admits to her brother. “I didn't save you. I should have. I'm the savior. I should have.”

She exhales, remembering the look on David's face as he told her Zelena had taken her brother, the guilt and agony that seemed to pierce her, and the relief and joy afterward of seeing her father return her baby brother to her mother's loving arms. 

She messed up, but there was a happy ending after all. Maybe there will be with everything else she's messed up as well, or with everything that's been messed up for her.

“They named you Neal for my and Henry's sake,” she says quietly after a moment. “They only knew him through me. I haven't told them...”

She trails off, watching the complete innocence on her brother's face. He doesn't know yet that love can also hurt. He doesn't know that love isn't always enough yet, he may never learn that being raised by the kind of parents he has, who makes love enough even through the impossible. 

She might come to envy him that. 

“He died to help save his family,” she says decisively, letting everything else go. “That's why they named you after him. They're big on loving sacrifices for family. They're big on love in general. That's the kind of family you were born into.”

She glances down at her parents again, exhaustion like a blanket across them, and feels her heart ache with love, both for them and feeling it from them, just as she so often does with Henry too. 

“Our kind of family, kiddo,” she says.

II

_Nephew-come-big-brother Henry_

II

Babies are peculiar, Henry has long since concluded. Not just because they're tiny and make weird noises and seem content to sleep when there's so much adventure to be had while awake, no. They're also peculiar because they make adults peculiar, making them do baby voices and weird smiles and staring at the baby sleeping as if that is some kind of exciting adventure. 

Babies are so peculiar because they're making him feel all grown up and wanting to do all those things too, so here he is, reading to baby Neal who is sleeping in Gramps's arms while Grams and mom Emma are making dinner together. 

The baby shows no appreciation for fairy tales, just sleeping through them, but Henry is determined to keep reading. The baby doesn't know how lucky he is, a prince from birth. Henry might be a prince now, but being one from birth, that is even cooler. 

“You've read the dragon part three times now,” Gramps observes, sounding amused.

“It's the best part,” Henry says. “That and when Grams knocks you out.”

“Hey!” Gramps says, as Grams beams proudly from the kitchen. “What about the part where I trapped her in the net?”

“That's cool too,” Henry acknowledges, and Gramps winks at Grams. “Is that how you tell a girl you like her?”

Mom splutters. “I think flowers are a better idea, Henry.”

“Oh,” Henry says. Flowers sound kind of boring, he has to admit. He makes a mental note to ask Gramps about how to impress women in private later. Maybe Hook has some advice too. 

Neal makes a noise, wriggling his hands in the air.

“I think he wants you to keep on reading,” Gramps says, and so Henry does, and the baby calms down immediately. Eventually he even falls asleep (as the fifth reading about the dragon), and Gramps eases him into Grams' arms and then goes to set the table for dinner with Emma.

“You're good at bedtime reading,” Grams tells him, smiling proudly. “I think Neal really likes listening to you.”

Henry tries to act cool at the compliment, but Grams' eyes twinkle as if she sees right through that. 

“I liked reading when I was a kid,” he says.

“ _When I was a kid_ ,” Emma mimics. “Teenager going on old man, are we?”

“Wise beyond his years,” Gramps interjects. “Did that skip a generation?”

“Hey!” mom says, but her smile betrays that she's actually rather enjoying being teased by her father. She's happy, Henry knows, happier than she was in New York. They just had each other then, but now they have more. 

Now they have Snow White and Prince Charming in the family, and mom Regina who isn't the Evil Queen anymore, and the all their friends and loved ones. And baby Neal, his uncle.

“Do you think Neal will mind if I act more like his big brother even though I am his nephew?” Henry asks, the thought suddenly occurring to him. “I don't know how to be a nephew to a baby.”

“I think he will love to have you in his life whichever way you want to be, Henry,” Grams says gently. 

“Yeah,” mom says, walking over and holding out a finger that Neal seems to stretch for. “He'll be ready to be your uncle one day. You can be his big brother until then.”

Henry nods. He knows about playing one part until who you're playing it to is ready for the next one, after all. He was the kid to Emma until she was ready to be a mom to a son, and Gramps and Grams had her as a sort of friend until she was ready to be a daughter, so they know it too.

Yeah.

He'll be the big brother. For now. 

“Grow up fast,” he tells Neal, and doesn't understand why Gramps and Grams and Emma all laugh, then smile bittersweetly at each other. 

II

_Regina_

II

This isn't the first time Regina has held a baby. She held Henry often enough while he was a baby, and as he grew older, she even missed the simplicity of holding him in her arms and being his whole world.

This isn't the first time, yet she feels the same sort of panic she did the first time she held Henry and he was fussy and she didn't know what to do. 

Neal is fussy and close to crying, but she can understand that. He's in the arms of someone unknown, someone who isn't mommy or daddy, and the unknown can be the scariest of all. Sometimes known emotions like anger can even feel safer and better than the unknown with its possibilities of happiness. 

She hasn't asked to hold Neal. She knows she has no right to. Even if she did bring her sister down, it was as much for herself as it was for Snow. And the part that was for Snow, that part she isn't quite ready to openly acknowledge yet. 

So she hasn't asked to hold the baby, and yet here she is, holding him while Snow helps her husband clear the dinner table. It's an excuse, Regina knows. Snow wants her to hold the baby, so she's found a way to get what she wants, as always. 

Emma would be a better choice to hold it, or even Henry, but those two are busy looking at apartments for Emma and thus didn't show up for the dinner at all. Normally, a dinner with the Charmings would seem like something to endure just to spend time with Henry, but after the year she now remembers in the Enchanted Forest, dinner with the Charmings is actually... Not horrible. 

Neal fusses again, making a slightly distressed noise that makes her heart ache. He is actually quite a lovely baby in a baby way, even if he already looks like a Charming.

“Hey,” she says softly, finding the tone of voice she used on baby Henry. It took her a while to truly find that, unfamiliar as she was with babies or that tone of voice from her own mother. “Hey there.”

Neal blinks at her, his hand pausing as if considering whether or not to keep fussing.

“I'm Regina,” she goes on. “Henry's mom. You know Henry?”

Neal makes a noise of encouragement, and she smiles in relief. Henry she can talk about. Henry has been her way into love, into the light, into this family. He can be her bridge here too.

“He carved you that wooden sword,” she goes on, glancing over at the cribthat the sword has been strapped to, probably by Charming. “He likes sword.”

She shoots a stern glance at Charming, who smiles innocently as if he has no idea where that particular interest of Henry's would come from. There were days that Henry's admiration of Charming really, really annoyed her, but frequently there are more and more days when she doesn't admit that there are worse people for her son to look up to. 

“He's a bit of a prince,” Regina goes on, smiling faintly at the thought. “So will you be. Your mother was quite the spoiled princess.”

Charming chuckles while Snow rolls her eyes, and the two share one of their nauseating loving looks that Regina is frighteningly starting to actually find endearing. Not that she'll ever tell them that. 

“Hi,” she coos at Neal instead, and his arms lower. “Hi.”

The baby smiles at her, and her breath catches. This isn't as it was with Henry, who was her baby, who was her only one. But this is still a moment of love, true, actual love for this little tiny baby, for Snow's son and Henry's uncle.

“Hi,” she says again, dumbfounded. “I'm... Regina, I'm....”

She searches for the words. Step-grandmother, great aunt, she's...

“Family,” Snow says, and Regina looks up to meet her teary gaze.

“Family,” Regina agrees.

II

_(Guardian Dark One) Rumpelstiltskin_

II

The Charmings are sleeping soundly in bed when Rumple lets himself in, but even so he lets a bit of magic ensure that they will sleep on for a while yet. They don't need to know he's here. 

The baby is sleeping too, but opens his eyes as Rumple looks down at him. There is no fear in his gaze. He's too young to know fear. He will learn soon enough, but there is nothing he'll never have to fear.

“This is a protection spell,” Rumple says quietly, as magic fills his palm. “It will keep you safe from those who would harm you.”

Neal blinks, not making a sound as the magic grows into a protective dome above him, then sinks down and into him. There is something in the boy, Rumple can already tell. Much like there was in Emma. 

“You're a lucky boy,” Rumple goes on, giggling theatrically. “You have a name that gets you a lifetime deal with the Dark One.” 

Neal looks unimpressed at that particular act, which has always been the response to it Rumple enjoys the most, as much as he would never show it. Maybe that's part of the reason he rather likes the Charmings, all things considered. They aren't much for acting. 

“He was my son,” Rumple says, closing his eyes for a moment in pain. “I finally became brave enough to die for him, and instead he died for me, for his son, for the chance to defeat Zelena.”

The name still comes out as a hiss, and he has to fight back the rage and fury it fills him with. 

“I avenged him,” he says darkly, then exhales and softens. “Your parents honored him when they named you after him. They didn't do it for me.”

He smiles softly at that thought. The Charmings aren't interested in impressing or gaining favor. They never have been. That's why they do impress him and do gain favor.

“So this deal is between you and me,” Rumple says, taking the baby's hand gently in his. “I will honor my son and my son's name. Your name. Neal.”

Neal makes a noise, and Rumple nods.

“The deal is struck,” he says, and means it.

II

_(Still to be determined) Hook_

II

Of all the people who could catch him trying to glue a small item onto the bottom of the crib of the royal one, it would be the royal father himself, the prince. Of course. The prince with his arms folded and an expression saying he has about five seconds to explain before swords get involved and that fists may get involved even if the explanation is good. 

He could attempt to wise-crack it, he knows, but wise-cracking doesn't work all that well with a Charming even if it annoys them so delightfully. (And sometimes they even wise-crack back, reminding him that they might be good people, but they do have a sense of humor. It's just a good one.) So he goes for the complete honest truth.

“I was just leaving a gift for the little royal one.”

“And you couldn't gift wrap it and leave it on the table?” David asks, his voice completely even. 

“It wouldn't do my reputation as a pirate a lot of good,” he counters.

“I believe you don't even have a ship any more. I think that's doing your reputation as a pirate far more harm than gift giving,” David replies, and Hook wonders just how much Emma has told her father. 

“It's because my reputation is in such tatters I resort to such desperate measures,” he says, and this time he does get an eyeroll out of the prince. “I wasn't sure if you would welcome a gift from me for your little one, mate.”

David considers that, still not giving away much. “What is it?”

Sighing, Hook holds up his hand and opens his palm. The tiny seashell glimmers in his hand, and suddenly looks silly and insignificant to his own eyes. 

But David just looks curious, raising an eyebrow as if knowing there is more to this.

“It was a mermaid's,” Hook says, trying to make his voice as light as he can. “It emits a soft noise at night, one we can't hear but it still seems to make it easier to relax and sleep. It worked on Bae when he had trouble sleeping in Neverland.”

David looks at him for a long moment. “Why give it to my son?”

Honesty, Hook remembers, and swallows. Wise-cracking is so much easier. “Because he is named after a man who was a boy I did wrong by and can't do right by now, so I have to do it by his son and his namesake. Because he is the brother of the woman I love. Because he is the son of a very good man.”

David seems to weigh his words for a moment, then nods slightly. Like daughter, like father, Hook thinks – hard to impress, so very hard, but somehow, that makes it feel all the more worthwhile and important to do so. 

“We're going to make a mobile for him,” David suddenly says, and Hook raises an eyebrow at him. “Henry wants it to have dragons. Snow wants it to have birds. I want sheep and Emma is joking about ladybugs. I think a seashell would fit right in with the rest of it.”

Hook can only nod at that, marveling at how a pirate can suddenly get a lump in his throat at the thought of a seashell earning a place in the mobile made for a prince. 

II

_(By choice) Belle_

II

“Here,” Belle says the moment David opens, shoving the huge pile of books into his arms before her own give out. David looks perplexed for a moment, then gently turns around and start carefully walking them over to the table.

“Belle!” Snow says, sounding happy but slightly surprised. Belle knows she is under no obligation to give gifts for the baby, and her marriage to Rumple doesn't mean she has to consider Henry and thus the Charmings part of the family. But she can choose to. “Come in.”

Belle does, closing the door behind her as she sees David beginning to carefully put the books down. The pile wobbles dangerously, but he manages to save it quite gracefully.

“They're children's books with happy endings,” she says, as explanation. “I read them all to make sure. I thought you might like them to read for Neal.”

“Thank you,” Snow says, sounding absolutely delighted. She leans forward and offers Belle a hug while David gives her a warm smile. A second later a cry comes from the crib, and David sighs.

“That would be the prince himself welcoming you,” he says, turning to Snow and giving her a light peck. “I'll check on him.”

“How is it?” Belle asks curiously. She has been thinking about what it might be like for a while now, after all. 

“Having a baby?”

“Yes.”

“Exhausting,” Snow says, but then her eyes light up and she smiles. “And wonderful.”

Belle can only nod at that. It is a bit like loving someone in general, she rather thinks.

“I think he's a bit bored,” David says, walking out with baby Neal in his arms. “Maybe we should try a book?”

“Do you want to read to him?” Snow asks, smiling at Belle knowingly.

“I would like that,” Belle admits, and David smiles as he eases the baby into her arms. The weight of him is strange at first, but she shifts him gently a few times until she feels comfortable. Snow has already picked a book, laying it out on the table so Belle can easily reach out and turn the pages. “Hi Neal. I'm Belle.” 

And so Belle reads, with Snow easing into David's arms on the couch and listening as well; the story takes a while to get to the happy ending, but it's a rather worthwhile journey along the way as well, Belle finds. 

II 

Their son has the timing of his big sister, Charming realizes with a groan, feeling Snow sigh against his chest where she was making a trail of kisses just seconds ago. 

“I'll get him,” she murmurs, rolling off him and leaving him bereft of the rather nice warmth of her body against his. (Far better than blankets to wrap himself in. Far.)

“I'll come,” he says, getting up as well. He helps Snow find her robe and then wraps himself in his own, padding after her into the nursery they've now made. 

Neal is crying, almost wailing and reaching his arms into the air. Snow hurries over and lifts him into her arms, his cries turning softer as she does. Charming watches as she tries to determine if their baby boy is hungry or needs changing, and looking increasingly worried as neither seems to be the case and Neal is still crying softly. 

“Charming...” she says anxiously.

“Maybe he just had a bad dream,” he suggests, but Snow shakes her head.

“That's not how he cries when he's had a bad dream,” she says, and he smiles at her. “What?”

“You're an amazing mother,” he tells her, and her expression softens. He leans over to kiss her temple, and lowers his hand to cradle Neal's head.

Neal turns his head and tries to suck on this thumb and Snow lets out a sharp breath.

“He's teething,” she says, wonder in her voice. “That's why he's in pain.”

“Isn't that a bit early?” he says, feeling a small pang of anxiety. 

“A bit,” she says, but smiles reassuringly at him. “It's normal, Charming. I guess our son is just impatient.”

“Wonder where he got that from,” he says dryly, and Snow gives him a pointed look. “I'll crush some ice and wrap it in something he can gnaw on, maybe that will help him with the pain.”

Snow nods, and talks soothingly to Neal while he continues to cry softly, and Charming walks into the kitchen. Looking around, he finds a plastic bag and some old cloth to wrap the ice in, forming it into a shape Neal can chew on without trouble. 

It works. Neal is still crying when he returns, but after a few minutes of chewing on the wrapped ice, the cries begin to fade. 

Snow is smiling at him, and he wraps his arms around her to hold her while she holds Neal. 

“How did you know how to do that?” she murmurs.

“My mother,” he says. “I remember I had some terrible toothaches when I was a boy and was growing new teeth. She would bring ice and snow to help numb it.”

As always, the thought of his mother comes with pain also, and Snow tilts her head upwards to kiss the underside of his jaw.

“I wish she could have been here to see her grandchildren,” she says softly. “She would have been proud of the father you are, Charming.”

“I hope so,” he says, longing to believe that to be true.

“I know so,” she says firmly, inviting no argument. He chuckles at that. “There are so many I wish could be here to be a part of Neal's family.”

Her father, he knows. Her mother. Johanna, and so many others they've lost along the way.

“I know,” he says. “But you have to admit, he has a pretty impressive family as it is. He has Snow White as his mother.”

“Prince Charming as his father,” she counters teasingly.

“Mmm,” he agrees, stealing a kiss. “Big sister Emma - who is also the savior. Nephew Henry, who is also the grandchild of the Dark One, meaning we have Rumplestiltskin in the family tree.”

“He married Belle, so she's there too,” Snow says softly.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Then we have Regina, who married into your family and raised Henry, so she's family twice.”

Snow chuckles. “Don't forget the dwarfs, they would come after you with pick-axes if you forget to count them as family.”

“Right,” he says. “Your seven big brothers. Believe me, even when I tried to forget them, I couldn't.”

She laughs; he delights in the sound of it. “Ruby.”

“Of course,” he agrees. “She's part of it.”

“We might have a few additions down the line too,” Snow says thoughtfully. If she's thinking of the possibility of Regina finding love or the possibility of their daughter finding it, he isn't sure. Maybe both. 

“I know,” he acknowledges. “I keep my sword sharp in case it's on Emma's side.”

“Charming!”

“You would take down a dragon if it kept our daughter from being hurt,” he says, kissing her temple. “Don't pretend you don't have an arrow ready.”

She bites her lip, and he knows he has her there – and loves her for it.   
“Additions pending survival, it's a rather big family for our baby boy, don't you think?” he says after a moment. 

“Our family,” she says.

“Our family,” he agrees. 

Snow smiles, glancing down at their now sleeping baby. Gently, she eases him back into the crib and kisses his head. Charming does as well, then takes Snow's offered hand and lets her lead him back to bed. (To sleep. Eventually.)

And in his crib, baby Neal sleeps on, still unaware of the big, messy family he's been born into. That's okay, though.

He'll grow into it. 

II

FIN


End file.
